


How Can I Say No to This?

by Ardently_Admired



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Comfort Sex, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, It's cutesy right now though, Maria and Eliza, The sin will come I promise, but later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-07 15:40:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11062029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ardently_Admired/pseuds/Ardently_Admired
Summary: A betrayed Eliza and a hurt Maria find solace in each other in the midst of emotional upheaval.





	1. This House Doesn't Feel Like Home

**Author's Note:**

> This is for a good friend of mine who helped me plot and plan this hot mess of a fanfic. I love this ship, and here's to smooth sailing!

Eliza walked blindly. She couldn't see anything beyond the tears stinging her eyes, couldn't hear anything above the words from the pamphlet running through her mind, echoing against the inside of her skull, words tha cut her straight through to her very bones. Words agonized over, words written and read by heavy hearts. 

The whinny of a startled horse shattered the evening, and Eliza whirled to see the carriage swerve, the wheel joints creaking as the driver yelled a curse down at her. As the carriage trundled away, wheels sending up flecks of mud onto her skirt, Eliza stood for a moment, her heart ppounding against her ribs.

How had she ended up this far downtown? Nothing looked familiar. Pigeons clustering on rooftops cooed at her, the normally calming noise suddenly abrasive. From down the road, a peal of raucous laughter sounded from a tavern, laced with drunken shouts and hearty voices. 

As she watched the sun dipping beyond the brownstones, casting long shadows over the streets, she wondered if she should have stopped the carriage driver, asked him for a ride back home. 

Home. 

But was that house really home? Empty save for Alexander, she had always felt at home there, safe and happy, with her adoring husband. God, she loved him. In the beginning, she had loved him more than anything. But as the months turned into years...his eyes no longer held that warmth. He looked at her as though she were something small and insignificant, a blotch of ink on his work. 

Eliza knew it was silly of her, to think that that feverish honeymoon feeling could last more than a year, but she had hoped, she had hoped it might. As the time ran down, as the days grew longer, quieter, more tense, she began to dread the nights, sleeping alone while the lone scratching of a quill bore down into her brain like a needle, filling every space with a sort of blankness. 

When Angelica had written to say she was coming for the summer, Eliza had jumped at the chance. Here was the opportunity she had been waiting for, a chance to rekindle that flame, that love. For weeks, she was filled with a light hope, eagerly packing and unpacking, humming as she worked, feeling a happiness, however one-sided, fill the house.

When she left, it was without Alexander, a piece of her still in the house with him.

The months upstate were beautiful; Eliza had cherished every moment with her father and sister, enjoying the bright hot days, and the starry nights. She wrote frequently to Alexander, making a near-daily trip to the post, but she received only two letters from him, both brief, both cordial. The 'I love you' at the end was lackluster- words, empty of meaning. 

She knew, the moment she returned home. How could she not? Alexander was distracted, even from his work, jumpy and short-tempered. He was rarely home, and when he returned, he was cold and distant. 

When the pamphlet made its way under her door, she wasn't shocked; she wasn't even surprised. She read it, once, twice, calmly. Then she had taken a match to every letter, every declaration, every scrap of parchment upon which he had poured his heart. 

When Eliza left the house, it wasn't in anger, or even sadness. It was in composure in the midst of disappointment, failure and hopelessness. Alexander had tried, calling after her, meaningless words, empty words, words he didn't mean. He hadn't meant them a year ago, why now?

He didn't love me then, Eliza thought, the bitter words sweeping unbidden through her mind, like a white-hot iron. Why should he love me only when he's done wrong?

She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn't notice the other woman until she hit Eliza, spilling the contents of her bucket of water all down Eliza's chest. The other woman gasped, dropping the bucket and reaching for a handkerchief. "I'm so sorry, Miss, I didn't mean to run into you!"

Eliza didn't speak, couldn't speak.

The woman was beautiful. Her skin was a lush, dark brown, in stark contrast to Eliza's porcelain hands. Her hair hung in loose spirals down her back. Her face was beautiful without effort, full lips, strong brows and glistening eyes staring softly into Eliza's blue ones. 

The woman's cream coloured dress was worn, patched in places, and the white apron fluttering in the cool breeze looked equally careworn. The homespun clothing did nothing to hide the woman's figure, all slim waist, full hips and chest, long fingers and neck. She was beautiful, incredibly so, and yet Eliza's stomach was filled with fire as she took in every part of her, of Maria Reynolds.

"It's you."


	2. She Lived a Block Away...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliza is faced with the prospect of something she never dreamed- a conversation about her husband with the woman he slept with. Emotions and tensions run high as Eliza realizes that Alexander may not be the only one to not say no to Maria Reynolds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Between losing this whole work when my iPod restarted, getting extra days at work and a busy rehearsal schedule, it's a miracle this is getting posted XD enjoy!!

The fading light streaked the sky with fiery orange, liquid pools of pink and fuchsia, the last glittering rays of burning hot sun disappearing into a wash of lavender. Somewhere down the street, a cat stretched, arching his back into a tabby curve. 

The streets were darkening, and no carriages were in sight. The pigeons took to a roof, nesting against one another, their light mumbling conversation sweet. 

And on the edge of the street, two women missed it all. Black eyes stared into blue, in a silence that was stronger than Eliza had ever felt before. 

This was the woman. The woman her husband had slept with, the woman who had, in essence, ruined Eliza's marriage. She should be furious, she should be livid. 

But as she stared into Maria Reynolds eyes, the twin pools of soulful obsidian, she...didn't. Didn't feel the anger she expected, didn't feel all the hatred that had been boiling within her just moments ago. 

Hesitantly, she felt her shoulders drop from the defensive stance she hady realize she was holding. "You...you're Maria Reynolds, aren't you?" Her voice sounded thick and foreign, her tongue clicking awkwardly over the words. 

The woman nodded. "I am. And you are..."

"Elizabeth Hamilton."

It was almost gratifying, in a revenge-served-cold type of way, to see Maria's face shift in recognition of the name. "You're his wife."

His wife. 

He had talked to this woman about her. Eliza bit the inside of her cheek, the sharp metallic taste of blood between her teeth. "Yes, I'm his wife."

Maria could have done many things in this moment, but what she did made Eliza's world stop spinning. The woman threw her head back, an laughed, bright peals of laughter, sharp and happy. As she laughed, her eyes screwed tight, the light breeze sweeping her hair off her face, Eliza felt...something else. 

Something she hadn't felt in a very long time, a smooth rolling heat beginning low in her stomach, and spreading out to the tips of her fingers and toes. 

It couldn't be. Not to her. To other women? Perhaps, yes, in the past. Sometimes a delicate wrist or soft curl would still catch Eliza's eye. But to Maria Reynolds? It was, really, the attraction of a mouse to a barn cat.

But she stood there, in the middle of a twilit street, her cheeks growing hotter as she stared at a woman she knew only by name and cloudy reputation. This was ridiculous. Absurd. Beyond comprehension, that she should be caught in the same net woven for her husband, and yet...as she watched the woman, her laugh fading into echo, she felt, somewhere, that she was more than happy to be ensnared. 

Maria's cheeks were flushed as she smiled, eyes sparkling. "I imagine you and I have a lot to discuss, Elizabeth."

"Eliza, actually." Eliza smiled at her shoes, the worn leather comforting. 

"Eliza." Maria said the word like she was tasting something sweet on every syllable. "I like that."

She began to walk, cream coloured cotton swirling around her. "Come with me, back to my house," Maria called over her shoulder. "We can talk there."

It was on the tip of Eliza's tongue to protest, but she watched Maria's slim silhouette vanishing to the east, a thousand thoughts running through her mind too quickly to read. After only a moment, though, she breathed in the cool night air, and followed. How could she say no to something like this?


End file.
